PUBLISHED 9 AUGUST 2025
A Photographic Retrospective and Historical Context
In May 2016, a visit to Waterford inspired me to photograph the John Condon memorial, a poignant sculpture located outside the Bishop’s Palace Museum. I was using a super-wide Voigtlander lens, which unfortunately caused extreme distortion in the resulting images. Lacking the software to correct this at the time, I filed the photographs away.
Now, as I prepare for another trip to Waterford, I decided to revisit those old photos. Modern software tools allowed me to process the images and correct the distortion, making some of them usable for the first time.
This re-examination prompted me to delve deeper into the story behind the memorial and the young soldier it honours.
John Condon: The Young Soldier
Inside the Bishop’s Palace Museum, exhibits related to John Condon include his medals and a part of one of his boots. He was long considered the youngest soldier to die in the conflict, and his tombstone states he was just 14 years old. However, his family believes he was slightly younger when he joined the 3rd Battalion of the Royal Irish Regiment.
Known as “The Young Soldier,” Condon was in the trenches for only five months before perishing in the Second Battle of Ypres in 1915. Family members recount his death was caused by the mustard gas the Germans used for the first time. The soldiers were caught in a terrible dilemma: they could not flee for shelter without being shot for cowardice, leaving them exposed to the gas.
After his death, Condon was buried in a mass grave, a common practice at the time. In 1923, his remains were identified and re-interred in Poelcapelle Cemetery in Flanders. The key to his identification was a number engraved into the leather of his boot, a tragic detail that underscores the anonymity of war.
The Memorial
Outside the museum stands the memorial itself: a 4.3-metre-tall, conical-shaped sculpture, a striking green tribute bearing John Condon’s name.
According to sculptor Pat Cunningham, the piece’s purpose is not to glorify war but to serve as a symbol of remembrance and reconciliation for Waterford’s war dead. It stands as a solemn and enduring monument to the profound sacrifice made by its namesake and others like him.
The Lost Boys of the Great War: A Study of Underage Enlistment
The Thomas Woodgate Memorial: A Poignant Tribute in Kilkenny
The Thomas Woodgate Memorial stands as a powerful focal point for remembrance in Kilkenny City, honouring a young life lost in the First World War. Unveiled on October 11, 2020, at Bateman Quay, the memorial commemorates Thomas Woodgate, a 14-year-old from Callan, County Kilkenny, who tragically died when the RMS Leinster was torpedoed in 1918.
Composed of two life-size statues on an iron plinth, the monument visually represents Woodgate’s truncated journey: one statue depicts a young boy leaving Ireland, while the other shows a soldier. The choice of Corten steel for the memorial is symbolic. This “weathering steel” develops a protective layer of rust over time, a metaphor for how historical memory endures despite the passage of time.
The monument’s creation was driven by the Kilkenny Great War Memorial Committee, which not only raised funds but also conducted the meticulous research that corrected Woodgate’s official age. Chairman Donal Croghan’s research, using Callan parish records, revealed that Woodgate was born in 1903, not 18 as previously listed on his tombstone. The memorial honours not only Woodgate but also all young people who left Ireland to fight in conflicts, and serves as a reminder of all those lost in the sinking of the RMS Leinster.
The Final Voyage: The Tragedy of the RMS Leinster
Thomas Woodgate’s life was cut short in one of the deadliest maritime disasters in the Irish Sea. On October 10, 1918, the RMS Leinster departed Kingstown (now Dún Laoghaire) for Holyhead, carrying nearly 700 passengers and crew. Shortly after 9 a.m., the ship was torpedoed by the German submarine UB-123. A second and third torpedo caused a massive explosion, sinking the ship rapidly and resulting in an estimated 564 to 571 lives lost.
Thomas Woodgate, just 14 years and 9 months old, was on board, travelling to join his training squadron in Egypt as a private in the Royal Air Force. His death makes him the youngest known Irish casualty of the First World War.
The ‘Boy Soldier’ Phenomenon: A Systemic Analysis
Woodgate’s story is an individual tragedy, yet it reflects a much wider historical phenomenon: the enlistment of thousands of underage boys in the British and Allied forces. Up to 250,000 boys under the official age of 19 are estimated to have joined the British Army alone.
Motivations for Underage Enlistment:
Many boys were lured by a romanticised view of war and a desire to escape poverty.
Intense nationalism, propaganda, and peer pressure—including the shaming tactic of presenting a white feather—created a powerful sense of duty.
Military service offered a steady wage and regular meals, an attractive alternative to civilian life for boys from disadvantaged backgrounds.
A System of Complicity:
Underage enlistment was not just a result of boys’ cunning but of systemic failures. The official age for service was 18, but the system was lax.
Many boys, particularly from lower socioeconomic backgrounds, lacked birth certificates, providing a systemic loophole. Recruiters often turned a blind eye.
Recruitment officers received a financial bounty for each new recruit, creating a profound contradiction between official policy and on-the-ground incentives.
The primary criteria for enlistment were physical: a minimum height of 5 feet, 3 inches and a 34-inch chest. A well-developed 16-year-old could easily pass for an 18-year-old.
Historical Memory and a Corrected Record: The Legacy of John Condon
For nearly a century, Private John Condon of Waterford was revered as Ireland’s youngest casualty. His memorial stands as a testament to his sacrifice, and the Commonwealth War Graves Commission (CWGC) recorded him as the “youngest known battle casualty of the war.”
The discovery of Thomas Woodgate’s true age did not diminish Condon’s sacrifice but provided a more accurate historical record. The diligent research of the Kilkenny Great War Memorial Committee led to a correction by the CWGC, which had previously listed Woodgate as 18. His tombstone in Grangegorman Military Cemetery has since been updated to reflect his correct age.
This shift from Condon to Woodgate as the ‘youngest casualty’ is a testament to how historical memory is constructed, maintained, and corrected. It highlights the importance of local historical efforts and meticulous research in ensuring the past is honoured with accuracy and respect.
The Stories of Woodgate and Condon
Thomas Woodgate was a Private 2nd Class in the RAF, born on December 31, 1903. He died on October 10, 1918, at the age of 14 years, 9 months, and 10 days, drowning after the RMS Leinster was sunk. His memorial is in Kilkenny, and he is buried in Grangegorman Military Cemetery in Dublin. He is now considered the youngest known Irish casualty of the war.
John Condon was a Private in the Royal Irish Regiment, born around 1901. He died on May 24, 1915, at the age of 14, killed in action during the Second Battle of Ypres. His memorial is in Waterford, and he is buried in the Commonwealth War Graves Commission cemetery in Essex Farm, Flanders. He was long considered the youngest known battle casualty of the war.
Conclusion
The stories of Thomas Woodgate and John Condon offer a powerful lens through which to view the “boy soldier” phenomenon. Their memorials serve as physical reminders of the thousands of underage boys who were driven to war by a complex mix of motivations. The tragic circumstances of Woodgate’s death on a civilian ship underscore the nature of total war, while the systemic flaws that enabled underage enlistment highlight the desperate needs of the military.
The historical re-evaluation of their stories, driven by the meticulous work of local historians, demonstrates the dynamic nature of historical memory and the importance of correcting the official record. The legacy of these “lost boys” endures not just in the battles they fought or the tragedies they endured, but in the monuments and stories that compel us to remember the profound sacrifices of a generation.